III.

BARDOUR.

ABOUT the time that Mansfield was goodnaturedly beginning to help the little Cumbrian out of his difficulties connected with the multiplication table, "a new boy" made his appearance at school; and something like the following conversation took place in the schoolroom during play hours.

"Have you seen Johnny Newcome yet?" "No. Who is he?"

"Oh, I don't know his name—that is, I forget it, for Mr. Harpur told me. Barton, is it? Barlow? No-Bar something, however; but that does not signify. But he is a dashing sort of fellow, they say. He came this morning, in a grand carriage of some sort or other, along with his father or his uncle-his uncle, I think; and they say he is a knight or a baronet, or something of that kind."

"Whom do you mean by 'he?' Is it the new boy, or his uncle?"

Why, his uncle, of course. Somebody Something, they say."

He is Sir

"You have a strange way of expressing

your meaning this afternoon, friend Willy; or your no-meaning, rather," said Mansfield, who was one of the speakers. "You call a boy whose name you do not know 'Johnny Newcome;' you speak of a gentleman being of a certain kind,' and you tell me that they say' this and that. Who are the 'they?'"

6

"Oh, never mind; if I were to tell you that James told me all about it-except what Mr. Harpur said-you would say it is against the rule to be talking with the servants; as if we could be always minding our p's and q's. But about this new boy-Bar-Bar-Bardour; ay, that is his name-Bardour: I shan't like him, I know; shall you?"

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Really," said Mansfield, laughing, "I do not know; how should I, when I have not even seen him? And how do you know that you shall not like him?”

"Why, of course, he will be proud, and very likely won't speak to any of us, because his uncle is so grand."

"I don't see that exactly, Willy: but if it should be so, we shall not be obliged to say much to him; so we shall be quits so far." "No, that is very true; but it is so disagreeable to have people about who think so much of themselves, and all that."

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There, you are talking nonsense again, Willy," said Mansfield, good-humouredly; what does all that' mean? and how do you know that this Bardour thinks much of

66

himself? or if he should, how can you make him out to be 'people?'

"You are as bad as Mr. Weston, Mansfield," replied Willy; "you know very well what I mean. But never mind Bardour; that is not what I was going to say principally-about him, I mean; I wish you would just do that horrid sum for me that I got such a scolding about from Mr. Harpur to-day. You will, won't you?"

"I cannot exactly do it for you, Willy; I must not, you know; but "

66 You can if you like, only you are so particular; but I know what I know for all that."

"You must be clever, then, Willy," replied Mansfield, still good-humouredly: "and what is it that you know that you know?"

"About Tom Smith: ah, you know. You do all his sums for him."

"Who tells you so, Willy?"

"Bowler says so; and he says he shall complain of you for interfering with the boys at his desk. If Smith had asked you to do a sum for him, you would have done it in a minute. You may as well do it for me; you have known me longer than you have him."

66 Bowler says what is not correct; and he knows it," said Mansfield, quietly; "and he is quite welcome to complain if he pleases. I have done no more for Smith than I am willing to do for you; and if you will bring

your book and slate, I will try to put you in the way of understanding the sum.

Willy went to his desk for his book and slate; and for a quarter of an hour or more Mansfield was good-naturedly attempting to explain the rule which puzzled his schoolfellow. But Willy was, on that particular occasion, dull of comprehension. He wanted to be at play; and, every moment, his mind was wandering from what he was doing. In truth, he wanted, not to be helped to work, but to have his work done for him. At length, after Mansfield, for the third time, was going over the same ground, Willy impatiently snatched away the book.

"It is of no use," said he, "and I won't try; and I think it is very ill-natured of you not to do the sum, when you could help me out of this hobble in a minute:" and he put away the slate and book, and went sulkily into the playground.

The next day Willy was "kept in" for the unfinished sum.

He was leaning sullenly on his elbow, playing with himself on his slate at "fox and geese," when some one looked over his shoulder; and turning quickly round, Willy saw that the observer was no other than Bardour, the new boy.

"So, so, Mr. What's-your-name, that is how you do your work, is it?"

Willy answered with a kind of sound

between a groan of impatience and a grunt of dissatisfaction.

"What is that to me, you would say," continued Bardour.

"Well, never mind;

do you want any help?"

"Not at fox and geese," said Willy.

"Pho! Shall I do your sum for you?" "Yes, if you like," replied the other. "Well, I do like, then, for once in a way. It is dreadfully dull; you seem to be such a queer set here: I want somebody to talk to, and you are the best-looking of the lot, though I can't say much for your beauty. However, you may do; so let me see what you are sticking at. Oh, is that all? Here goes, then; give me your pencil."

"But you must not be seen doing the sum for me," said Willy.

"Must not! Who says must not ?" "Mr. Harpur won't let me off so."

"Mr. Harpur may do what he likes. What do I care for Mr. Harpur? However, I'll do the sum on my own slate, at my own desk; Mr. Harpur can't hinder me from that, I suppose; and you can do as you like about copying it afterwards."

Willy was not over-scrupulous; and when, a little while afterwards, Bardour laid before him the slate half covered with figures, he copied them upon his own, which he took up to the teacher's desk. The sum was correct, and Willy was released.